


Scars and All

by learningthetrees



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Tetralogy - Thomas Harris
Genre: F/M, First Time, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 08:22:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14280879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/learningthetrees/pseuds/learningthetrees
Summary: What he didn’t ask was whether she wanted to saddle her life with him. He couldn’t say it out loud, but what he really wanted to know was whether she wanted him, with all his brokenness and all his scars.





	Scars and All

They’d stopped counting the number of dates they’d been on. Sometimes the date wasn’t even dinner or a movie, but a walk by the bay or an evening sitting on the porch watching the sun set. Will taught Molly how to fish, she taught him how to swing dance, and sometimes, when the lights were low and the house was silent, they talked about the things they’d never discuss in the daylight: Molly’s late husband, Will’s history with Dr. Lecter, Molly’s insecurities about raising her son alone, Will’s lost surrogate daughter, all the ghosts that still plagued both of them. They laid bare their fears, punctuated with kisses and cuddles. But Will was still apprehensive, afraid that she’d realize just how broken he was and leave while she still had the chance. He knew he had a tendency to develop feelings quickly and fully, and with Molly it was no different. So he’d been holding back from professing the depths of his feelings, from giving her every part of him.

That night, they kissed all the way from the car to the house. Will forgot that he needed to breathe and inhaled her instead, pressing his lips to any part of her skin he could reach. Molly loved his hair, and he loved how her fingers felt threading through his curls and scraping lightly against his scalp. His hands firm on her waist, they scaled the stairs, still attached at the lips. Will backed against the bedroom door and, in an effort to open it, kicked it in. The door swung open and banged loudly against the wall inside, startling both of them out of their passion.

“I’m sorry,” Will said, his confidence replaced by embarrassment. Molly, her arms still wrapped around his neck, shook her head.

“It’s fine,” she said, pressing a firm kiss to his lips. “Nobody’s hurt.” Another kiss. “We’re alone.”

She stepped forward, her legs negotiating his backward as well. Farther into the room, farther into their own private seclusion. He hungrily kissed her, wanting to memorize every corner of her. Hands tugged on fabric, inadvertent gasps escaped, warm breath mingled between them whenever they pulled apart. All the while, they moved backward, until the backs of Will’s legs collided with the edge of the bed and he plopped down onto it, looking up at Molly. She brushed his hair from his face.

“Do you want this, Will?” she asked softly. Will wasn’t entirely sure what “this” was: her touching him, spending the night together, sharing a life together. It didn’t matter; the answer was the same for all.

“Yes,” he said breathlessly. “Do you?” What he didn’t ask was whether she wanted to saddle her life with him. He couldn’t say it out loud, but what he really wanted to know was whether she wanted him, with all his brokenness and all his scars.

“Of course I do,” she said, leaning down to kiss him again. Her fingers teased at the hem of his shirt and he went still as she lifted it over his chest, maneuvering it around his shoulders, and then poking him in the eye with a finger as she lifted it past his head. “Oh my God,” she cried, immediately inspecting the damage. “I’m so sorry.”

In her voice were notes of horror, as if she thought he’d change his mind. But the whole situation—a beautiful woman undressing him, a beautiful and clumsy and wonderful woman—bubbled up inside Will until he laughed, a small chuckle that split his face into a wide smile. After a moment, Molly laughed, too, pressing a palm lightly to Will’s cheek like his smile was a precious treasure she rarely got to see and wanted to protect.

“I’m a little out of practice,” she admitted with a small laugh.

“What, and I’m not?” Will said with raised eyebrows. Molly looked down, her smile now one of embarrassment. She glimpsed the knotted white scar stretching across his lower abdomen, and reached out a hesitant hand towards it. She traced her finger along its curvature, not disgusted, but following it as one would the lines on a roadmap. The scar tapered off at his right ribcage, but Molly continued her journey, sliding her hand slowly up his side.

“Come here,” Will offered, lying back against the bed and opening his arms. She curled up beside him, one hand gently turning his jaw so their lips could meet. Softly, deeply, warmly, hands roaming, giggling when they bumped noses. The buttons on Molly’s blouse were small and uncooperative under Will’s calloused fingers, but eventually each was carefully undone and he slid the shirt off her tanned shoulders.

One of Will’s hands trailed over her exposed skin, reading its Braille. He was pleased to see she had her own marks: freckles and blemishes and thin scars that shone in the dim light. A couple of stretch marks faded into her waistband, reminders of the son she’d carried inside her. Hovering over her, Will leaned down to press a kiss to her lower stomach, and she giggled as his stubble tickled her sensitive skin.

With a few deft tugs, her shorts were off, and Will’s ever-active mind shifted into a new gear. It was like the lizard brain returning to its instincts. No longer did he over-think each move he made, whirling around to see every moment from Molly’s perspective. They were becoming one, in many ways, and they moved and thought and breathed in sync.

They didn’t fall asleep after; Will never could. A race of endorphins made him want to talk, made him a better listener, and so they spilled out over the sheets and talked the rest of the night. Will rested his head on Molly’s collarbone, her fingers playing through his hair. He smoothed a thumb across her perfectly imperfect stomach and, for the first time in a very long time, felt completely content. There was no nagging darkness at the corners of his mind, just a bright light that seemed to emanate from where his skin and Molly’s met.

“I love you,” he said. The lizard brain was again working without his input. He hadn’t planned on saying it, not yet, but Molly made no indication that he’d said anything out of the ordinary. Like he’d said it a million times before, like all the times he’d wanted to say it but held it back, she’d known he was thinking it.

She rolled onto her side to face him and looked fearlessly into his eyes as she said, “I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me at [ask-learningthetrees.tumblr.com](http://www.ask-learningthetrees.tumblr.com)!


End file.
